HELLS WEST
by herondalefan
Summary: Mafia AU Oneshot: The Underworld is a place of crime and deceit. It is a place where the foulest sort of people thrive and breed their hatred. Even those who try to fight the darkness must sink to their level. SwitzerlandxOC


**I know I should be working on the next chapters for my other stories (And I will!) but this mini story came to mind and I had to write it out. **

**Author's Note:This story is set in a Mafia AU. A couple of my friends and I got together and created this brain child! We decided to try our hand at a mafia world and the Hetalia universe was subjugated to our whims. After arguments, tears, and the threat of the destruction of our trio hanging over our heads (not really) this was the product. So please, enjoy and review~  
**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia is a stroke of genius that I have no claim to! **

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Peace is an easy path to tread  
Peace is where our fears are mislaid  
Peace is beginning to restore  
Peace for each man, woman and child  
Peace for the troubled streets gone wild  
Peace is for the old and the young  
Peace in the end will overcome  
Peace builds trust into a lifestyle  
Peace is a friendly open hand  
Peace is a place to understand  
Peace in the end will overcome  
Peace is for the old and the young  
Peace is a legacy to leave  
Peace is when we don't have to grieve  
Peace is and end to all the hate  
Peace is why we negotiate  
Peace for all the victims of war

**Paul McCann**

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**New Jersey, 8:00 am, May 6, 2013**

New York City is internationally known as 'The City that Never Sleeps'. The honking car horns in Manhattan, the shouting of various languages in Brooklyn, and the screaming of fans in the Bronx. All of these noises come together to create a symphony of sound that the Big Apple is famous for.

It was almost silent in one of the industrial sections of New Jersey. Specifically a small and deserted yard that had once been used to produce heavy machinery. During its prime it had been a place of bustling activity and productivity, just as responsible for the noise as any other place in the area. Now it was a ghost yard filled with rusting cranes, smashed boxes and countless demonstrations of graffiti. If someone were to pass the gated off area they would probably assume that it had been abandoned during the stock market meltdown of '08 if not earlier. Their minds would never wander down the insane path filled with an underground world, mysterious people and power struggles. Those fantasies were for over imaginative teenagers filled with angst and semi-decent crime novels. No, they would just continue on their way and perhaps consider how much of a jerk their fellow employee had been lately. The passing backdrop of characters didn't notice the blonde male glide behind them and into the junkyard. Then again, they were but a small role in this world and doomed to never notice or consider the extraordinary.

On the other hand, the blonde male, whom was mentioned before, lived a rather different existence. He didn't look or act like the sort to enter abandoned yards on his own whims, but that didn't deter him from his path. The male tucked a loose, and rather stubborn, curl behind his ear, but it popped back out. The hoodie wearing young man let out a barely audible sigh, the golden locks just wouldn't listen to him. He stuffed his hands back into the worn pockets of his red and white jumper.

Gravel crunched under his feet until his tattered white sneaker fell on smooth pavement. Shuffling sounds replaced the previous noises of him walking.

The male had entered the run-down building; it was in no better shape then the outside. Wooden beams were starting to fail and had signs of the beginnings of rotting. Stacks of old cardboard boxes sent shadows up the walls and on the floor. One thing was for certain; this building did not look like the entryway into North America's most notorious crime organization.

The meek looking man glanced back behind his shoulder- checking one last time to make sure he wasn't being followed- before pushing away a box in the corner of the warehouse. The action revealed to him a square trap door on the floor. He lifted and removed the door before sliding his legs into a fair sized hole. Positioning himself in the most comfortable way possible he let go of the two sides and dropped down into the suffocating darkness. He didn't bother to try hiding the obvious entrance; the meeting place would be disposed of when they finished.

Where the grown man had landed a light flickered on. He found himself in a well-kept hallway made of concrete that led to a smooth black door. He pushed himself out of his landing position and glided down the passageway. The simple action of placing his hand on the door caused it to slide open and he was permitted to enter a new room.

This one was also made of concrete but was rather large for an underground hideout. There were no personalized decorations or flooring in the new room. Just a long, sleek metallic table that was almost the length of the surrounding walls. Chairs were placed along the piece of furniture but that wasn't what was interesting in this room. The people sitting on the chairs were far more fascinating to the male. A man who was a mirror image to him sat on the far end and by his side sat an older male with thick eyebrows. Across from him sat a man with chin length hair and stubble. All of the men had varying shades of blonde hair.

The hoodie wearing male continued his examination of the room's occupants and his eyes slid farther down the table. A dark skinned female wearing a tight black belly shirt was also there along with a darker skinned male with dreadlocks in a ponytail. The standing adult could have continued to watch the people in the room but the sight of the dark skinned male was all of the initiative he needed to choose a place to sit.

No one looked at him as he made a beeline for the empty chair; he figured it was because they couldn't see him. He had always had the ability to keep unseen but this time he attributed his invisibility to the chaos surrounding the table.

"Yo, the Hero's idea always works!"

"No they don't Yankee! You need to think of something more practical like a summoning ritual."

"I disagree with both of your ideas."

"Make your mind up Frog!"

"Is something wrong Angleterre?"

"Keep quiet you old pervert I'm working over here."

"What do you mean wo- WHERE IS MY WALLET!"

The hoodie wearing male sweat dropped at the scene his adoptive father was making, as he leaned over the table to strangle the Frenchman who had 'stolen his wallet'. He didn't notice the female next to him leafing through his bills before stuffing them in her pocket. The dark skinned male sitting at the table shook his head at his superior's antics before turning to the incoming blonde.

"There you are! I was wondering if you'd show up." He laughed and slapped the hoodie wearing man on the back. The blonde man gave him a timid smile before quickly sitting himself down. The action didn't go unnoticed, for once, by the male sitting at the head of the table.

"Hey Bro, I was wondering if you were going to show up!" He yelled at the hunched male in an obnoxiously loud voice. This caused a chain reaction with the others. The man who was previously trying to strangle the Frenchman straightened his tweed suit and sat down, while said Frenchman turned to the timid male with a smile. The dark skinned girl smirked while adjusting the straps of her dark green backpack. The soft-spoken male quailed slightly underneath all of the attention he was receiving. He wasn't used to so much at once.

"Are you alright Mathieu? Did you run into any trouble getting here?" Matthew shook his head while acknowledging the man he considered his 'Papa'.

"Of course he didn't. Matthew can take good care of himself. He's a tough boy." The Brit puffed out his chest in what the Canadian assumed to be pride. It warmed him a little that his father considered him to be self-sufficient.

"We'll now that we're all here let's get down to business." Alfred Jones said. His tone shifted from idiotic to serious. Matthew couldn't help but marvel at the wonder that was his twin brother. Sometimes he thought the man had a split personality.

"There isn't much to report." Arthur Kirkland spoke up and adjusted his tie. "The only problem we have right now is the influence of the KGB. It's cutting into our European territories left and right, anything they don't snatch up the Mafia takes control over."

Silence was the response to the Brit's issue. They knew they needed a plan to take on the two forces. The Mafia was the Gang's- as they liked to be called- biggest rival in the international underworld while the KBG was Europe's police force that was driving towards the obliteration of all crime. Everyone in the room knew that they couldn't risk either force to take control over all of Europe, it would mean the end for them. The Gang controlled all of North America and was working towards Southern America. They had significant influence in New Zealand and Australia along with large sections in Europe. Africa was a literal war zone but it was an unspoken agreement that they held major claims to the Western and Southern portions of it. If anything, they were the most wide spread organization in the world.

The Mafia was the oldest group and they controlled some of Europe and all of the Mediterranean with an iron fist. They even held claim to bits of Africa. The Yakuza had unanimous control over all of Asia. They were the last of the 'Big Three' in the Underworld. The Mafia, Gang and Yakuza. They were the ultimate enemies of the government organization the KGB. It controlled Russia and all of northern and bits of Central Europe. They fought 'for the good of the people' against darker organizations. Of course that didn't stop the KGB from using brutal and inhumane ways to achieve their means.

"There's an information chip." Arthur said suddenly. "My spies have found information that the KGB may have made a shaky alliance with a lesser group to get their hands on the locations of our branch hideouts. If we can get the chip and destroy it we're home free." Alfred thought about it for a few minutes before nodding his head.

"That sounds about right to me. It would explain the mysterious deaths of my subordinates and the gain in territory. If I had to guess, the Mafia is keeping track of their movements and snatching up sections before the KGB can officially claim them." The American patted the hand of his British Second in Command.

"The real question is, where would they keep the chip?" Francis Bonnefoy mused. He scratched the stubble on his chin before glancing at the Cuban man a few seats away from him.

Carlos Machado raised an eyebrow at the questioning look before sighing and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket.

"Ivan doesn't seem like the kind of guy to keep a chip on or near him. If I had to guess he would probably stick it with one of his trustworthy but psycho subordinates." He lit the end of his cancer stick before taking a drag. He didn't notice the sudden disappearance of his pack and the appearance of a single cigarette in the Moroccan woman's hand.

The Frenchman ignored the thievery for the idea and turned to his younger leader.

"What do you say Amerique?" He questioned while the glasses clad male scratched the back of his head.

"I think that sounds about right. Now we just need to figure out who has it." Alfred turned to Arthur who started to tick off his fingers.

"He wouldn't put it on Irunya, she's more of a diplomat. Natalya is near him too often otherwise she would be perfect for the job. Roderich isn't aggressive enough to have it but Elizibeta is a possible choice. Somehow, I don't think he would give it to her simply because he strikes me as sexist. Raivis, Toris and Eduard are too whipped for him to give them anything and Feliks antagonizes him too much to be trusted. That leaves Vash Zwingli." The Brit looked pleased with himself after the showcase of his deduction skills while Sophia's eyes held a strange glint.

"Excellent. Arthur, I want you to send in your spies to the European Royal Bank to sniff around and find the location of the chip. We will continue from there. Meeting adjourned!" Everyone moved from their places at the table to exit the meeting room. That is, everyone except Matthew Williams who looked a little miffed that his opinion wasn't considered during the meeting.

**Lausanne, 2:00 pm, May 18, 2013**

Switzerland was a mountainous and rocky country. It is famous for being completely neutral to the point of isolated and the original inventor of banks. The oldest bank in Switzerland resides in the traditionally French speaking part of the country. It is called Landolt & Cie and has been in operation since 1780. The bank's front was on a square with a water fountain in front. It was designed to look like a castle with merlon and embrasure lining the top. The entire structure was made of stone that had fancy stained glass windows looking down on the square.

A female dressed in tight dark pants and a leather-riding jacket wearing shades climbed up the steps to the gorgeous structure. She strode confidently up to the till, leather boots clacking against the ground. A thin blonde woman, with a pretty but easily forgettable face, greeted the female. The leather-clad woman slid her sunglasses off and hooked them on the front of her shirt while the blonde desk woman examined her customer.

The leather-clad female had skin the colour of milk chocolate and curls of dark brown hair. Her eyes were large and a burnt orange colour, framed by thick lashes. She had high cheekbones and full lips, darker in colour. All in all, a gorgeous young woman.

"What can I do for you today?" The blonde girl at the desk asked. Her customer gave her a charming smile; she had straight white teeth the blonde noted, before replying in flawless German.

"My name is Sara Benjelloun and I'm here to access some of my grandfather's funds." The stunning brunette said with a smile. The blonde behind the desk nodded and asked for an I.D. She received one and nodded at the genuine document.

"What is your grandfather's name?"

"Othman Benjelloun." The blonde shook off the familiarity of the name before typing it into her computer. That was until she saw just _how much_ this girl's grandfather had. So she was related to _that_ Othman. If the girl was to enter one of their best protected vaults then she would have to give this job to her higher up.

"One second please." The blonde pressed several buttons on the telephone on her desk before placing the receiver to her ear. Sara smiled and nodded while waiting for the blonde to finish. The employee placed the phone back on the desk before standing and ushering the leather-clad woman to one of the far doors. Sara followed in her wake until a blonde man met up with them.

"I have been informed of the situation." He said. "Please follow after me." Sara nodded and bid goodbye to the blonde female. Her footsteps echoed off of the stone walls as she followed the man deeper into the building.

Sara kept her eyes trained on the manager and couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. He had sharp features and a stern expression that was curtained by straight, light blonde hair. Jade green eyes pierced whoever dared to look upon him and he walked with a never faltering step. His suit was crisp and impeccable.

An uptight and rule abiding man she decided. The manager seemed to realize she was using the silence to scrutinize him and decided to break it.

"So your grandfather is the richest man in Morocco. A billionaire, I believe." Sara nodded at his statement. It was true and undeniable considering the circumstances. She gave off the air of someone who was used to having to hide her heritage. A smart idea the manager thought. She would be in some danger should someone try to use her to increase their own wealth.

"Yes. He made most of his fortune through banking and investments." Sara continued their light conversation. "It's something of a family interest." The manager raised an eyebrow at this.

"Have you found that your talents lie in the same field?" He asked. Sara gave a soft laugh that bounced off of the walls.

"Not quite. You see, my family doesn't really... encourage, if you will, my interests. They find them a bit strange." The manager's interest was peaked but he had to slow down as they came to three doors that led to high security vaults.

The manager made to open the one to his right when Sara stepped close to him. He could feel the sharp buttons of her leather jacket digging into his front but he was more concerned with the hypnotizing eyes that were a little too close to his.

"What are your interests manager?" Sara breathed. He found himself at loss for words at the mischievous look on her face. The heiress leaned up so her lips were just brushing his ear.

"Tell me what fascinates you **Vash**." The second his name left her soft lips, Vash Zwingli knew something was terribly wrong. As if to accentuate his thoughts the ground and ceiling shook as the bomb siren went off. The lights were knocked out and the Swiss man had to throw out his arms to stop himself from falling after a pair of strong arms pushed him. He thought the situation couldn't become any more alarming until a cloying smell overcame his senses and he had to stuff cloth to his nose and mouth to stop from fainting. She had gas tags on her he thought. Vash's eyes watered from the drug that filled the air and all the KBG member could think about was that he was so glad Lili had chosen that week for her vacation.

The lights flickered on the same time the gas started to dissipate, that is to say about eight minutes after the attack had started. The point of the attack became apparent when Vash found himself with a destroyed vault that was missing a chip. The blonde man tore his radio out of his pocket and clicked into the stream.

"We have a level five code blue. Please initiate the defence sequence to the east. I repeat, level five, code blue, initiate defence to the east." He spoke in low, icy tones that would make anyone shiver.

Sara, or rather Sophia, was several kilometres east of the bank she had just robbed. The chip was safely secured in a holster on her leg and she was speeding away from the sight of the crime on her motorbike. A round black helmet obscured the view of her face and she was thankful for it. Her road was sure to be monitored with its quiet feel. There were very few other vehicles on her escape route.

The shooting started a few minutes later. They were machine guns by the speed of the bullets and she didn't doubt they had the latest technology. Never before had she seen people capable of shooting so close to her in quick succession. If the KGB could get guns like those, the bombs they would be capable of getting their hands on made her mouth water.

The pyromaniac swerved and dodged according to her gut instinct and adrenaline rush. It only took her a little while before she identified the culprits. There was a road atop of the slope next to her that a quick dark car was driving on. The amber-eyed girl grinned at her revelation and took one hand off of the handles of her bike to reach back into a small green backpack.

"This is my talent." She said with an unhinged smile even though she knew Vash was far away from her now. The girl ripped out the pins from two small metal spheres before chucking them with deadly accuracy right in front of the car. She didn't watch the resulting explosion because she was too busy aiming for higher speeds on her bike.

The bomb specialist pulled over once she was sure no one else was coming after her. She pulled Carlos's cigarette pack from a hidden pocket and quickly lit a stick. She inhaled the soothing toxins into her lungs before admiring the smoke hanging in the air.

"Vash." She tried his name out on her lips. Sophia smiled as she remembered the look on his face the last time she had spoken his name. It was fun getting such a startled reaction from a usually composed man.

"I hope you hang around long enough for us to play again." She dropped the stub and squished the remains underneath her boot.


End file.
